Elf

The Song of Creation

Music rises from the camp. An alien sound, it is formed from the deepest wells of elven emotion and given voice by strangely shaped elven instruments. The music touches everyone, permeating mind and body. It plays across different levels. Sounds sweep into tapered ears on melodious winds of noise. Rhythms pulse in time with fast-beating hearts and rushing blood. Other tones go beyond such physical trappings, leaping from the air itself to ignite inner fires and arouse elven souls. Driven by the swift, chaotic beat of mythic drums, the tribe begins to move. The elves follow the music's winding path, keeping time to tempos that no human could match. Male and female, elder and child, the tribe dances to the wild elven sounds. Then, from the midst of the furious motion, Utaa the elf maiden's clear, liquid voice sings out…

"Death is stillness, so run, you elves. Dance to the beat of life, for the moment is quick and oh so short. There is nothing as fast nor as proud nor as wonderfully made as an elf", Utaa smiles proudly, wickedly, "and there is no elf to match a Star Racer!" The tribe shouts in joy, and Utaa sings on with even greater enthusiasm and power. "Let us celebrate the now with a song of remembrance! Let us dance to the song of the first Star Racer. Coraanu, we remember you!"

The tribe twirls and leaps, each member like an individual grain of sand in the elven music storm. Each elf follows the beat while not conforming to the movements of the others. Still, out of this chaotic swirl a sophisticated harmony forms. The dancers mimic Utaa's words with subtle motions as well as unrestrained gyrations, adding form and substance to the verbal images she has wrought for the tribe. A male warrior spins out of the crowd. His name is Botuu, but for the now he is Coraanu – he is the first Star Racer. Utaa's eyes fill with joyous light, and she prepares to sing again. "Before the deserts filled the world, in a now when the wasteland ruins were bright and new, the elves lived high in the sky", Utaa sings in reverence, her eyes lifted toward the burning sun. "These elves, the stories tell us, were small and frail – not Athasian elves at all! One elf was faster and stronger than his fellows, the elf named Coraanu. When the rest of his tribe decided to settle down and build cities like the slumbering humans, Coraanu refused to join in. He was a runner, and the wanderlust danced in his feet and sang in his blood! He laughed at his tribe and ran in search of wealth and adventure." Utaa lets the music move her, her body dancing to the beat of the instruments and her own singsong words. Her voice low and husky, she sings on, "Coraanu raced across the stars by night, avoiding the heat of the day and the eyes of his slow, clumsy enemies. His feet barely touched each glowing step in the night-sky road, and he carried only the most precious items with him. Some were his at the start, others were found along the way, taken from those with slow minds and slower bodies.

"For a trader's year Coraanu ran", the elf woman tells her tribe, letting her words gain speed to match the building rhythm. "He rested by day, taking a single nibble of his loaf and a single swallow from his waterskin before resuming his race when the sun left the sky. When he could not run and could not win by wits and cunning, Coraanu won by war. He wielded a wicked blade of glowing iron that cut through foes with a brutal, savage joy. None were his equal – and only fools chose to stand against him as he sped through the night. "He raced across the sky, gathering followers from among the slumbering tribes", Utaa sings as Botuu dances through the crowd. He taps a male here, a woman there, a child by his side, motioning for them to join him in his story dance as Utaa's words fill the camp. "Elves with restless spirits and courageous hearts flocked to his side, and Coraanu became chief of a new, growing tribe. He decided to leave the slow, settled elves behind to find a place where his elves could run free. "'We shall run as far and as fast as our legs will take us,' Coraanu told his tribe. 'We shall run day and night on roads of clouds and paths of stars. We will carry all the food and water we can, never stopping until our waterskins run dry. Then, with nothing to sustain us but heart and courage, we will run still more until we find a place to dance and hunt and run as we please.'" 

The music builds in intensity, pulsating through the crowd of frenzied dancers. Now other elves leave the circle to join Botuu – Coraanu – as he dances/runs in the center of the crowd.

"On and on Coraanu ran", Utaa's voice informs the gyrating crowd. "Some of his new tribe could not keep up, so they were left behind. But those who raced beside him became stronger with every long stride. Every step stretched them, adding length to their limbs and height to their lithe, powerful frames. "When so many nows had passed that not a single elf could count them, Coraanu and his followers stepped down into the flat, unmarred Athasian wilderness", the elf woman sings with gladness and awe, throwing her arms wide. A lyran joins in, its strings vibrating with unrestrained joy as Utaa sings. "The land stretched in all directions like the endless width and breadth of the sky. There was game to hunt and enemies to battle, room to run and no walls to choke them in. "'This wilderness is ours!' Coraanu cried out. 'It belongs to the elves, and any who dispute that will taste our elven blades!' The others added their voices to his song, and Coraanu looked upon the people he had gathered. As the song and celebration continued, Coraanu danced among the elves. He formed them into smaller groups and danced with each for a time, finally singing out a name before spinning away to the next group. The name suited each group, and one at a time they danced away from the others. Thus were the tribes born; thus did the elves claim the endless wilderness as their home."

Utaa pauses, letting her ballad rest between the beats of the music so that anticipation can build. She spins beside Botuu, matching his frantic steps for a time. Then she twirls away and sings, "Finally, only one group remained. These were the best of the elves that ran with Coraanu – the strongest, the swiftest, the smartest. This was the tribe he had always dreamed of leading. "'You are the Star Racers,' Coraanu proclaimed. 'Let this celebration continue through every now to come, so that you will always remember the time when we ran across the sky and found this wilderness to sustain our bodies and our ways!'"

Utaa dances into the crowd, fading away so that only Botuu remains as focus and spoke in this living wheel. He leads the crowd through moves and steps so fast and furious that they seem almost supernatural. For this moment, he is truly Coraanu, the first Star Racer, and these are his ardent followers. The dance continues, carrying each elf on a wild, savage ride as the music reaches a furious beat.

Legs and arms pump, heads rock from side to side, and joyous screams vibrate through the camp. Then, all at once, the music ends and the dancers drop exhausted to the ground. Silence fills the air as loudly as the sounds of elven instruments did but a moment before. The song of creation, however, remains. It echoes in every elf's heart and soul, there to be remembered when next the music plays...

Physical

Nature Any discussion on Athasian elves must start with the obvious – the things we can see, hear, and feel. There is no mistaking an elf for a human or a mul, for example, because we can see that the elf stands taller and is leaner in form. We can touch the thick, callused skin of a dwarf and note how much more rugged it is as compared to the smoother, sleeker elven flesh. This is not to say that elves display no evidence of wilderness life – just that elves weather it differently than other races. The desert runners tower over halflings as the Dragon towers over all. From a purely visual perspective, the only thing these two races share is a tendency to be in top physical condition. Of the most common races, only halfgiants and thri-kreens grow larger than Athasian elves, though neither has an elf's grace or pleasing form. All of this falls under the heading of physical nature. There are certain physical traits, attributes, and bodily functions that all the elves of Athas share. From appearance and stature to natural physiological abilities and the effects of aging, elves are very different from the other races of Athas. This suits them just fine, for the elves consider themselves as beings above and apart from all others.

Elves Under a Dark Sun

The crimson sun blazes in the sky, casting light and broiling heat upon sorcerer-king and slave alike. On the arid, barren plains of the Tablelands, where the last remnants of civilization huddle around pools of brackish water and clumps of withered vegetation, the elves of Athas run free. To an elf of the Tablelands, the hot wind offers a promise of adventure, and the burning sun provides a challenge to be met head on. Only the best survive the fires of Athas's wilderness, for they are made strong like a bowl in a craftsman's kiln. While any elf is quick to admit that others come through the challenges of sand and sun intact, few races do it as well or with as much fervor as those of elven stock. Thousands of elf tribes wander the dunes and steppes of the Tyr region. They compete with each other and with the other races, battling for the food and water that will keep them strong. Moreover, the elves recognize no boundaries beyond the limits of the walls of the city-states (and even these they pay only surface homage to). As such, every mile of stony barrens, scrub plains, and salt flats is their territory; every caravan and solitary traveler fair game. Most tribes stake out a particular area for a time, wandering a specific path for months or even years. Then, when the mood strikes them, they abandon the territory for whatever lies over the heat-soaked horizon.

Athasian elves are forged in the endless desert – burned dark by the sun, toughened by the swirling sand, and given strength and speed by the constant wind. Legends proclaim this and songs make it fact, for an elven adage states, "If we sing of it, it must be so". Elves are tall, usually standing between 6½ and 7½ feet. As with all races, there are a few exceptions to these generalities, but most elves fall within these parameters. They are thin for their height, lean, and always appear in peak physical condition. An elf's limbs are slender and longer than his body size would indicate. His legs seem to stretch forever, and it is easy to see why he is a born runner. Though lean, his limbs are not as fragile and weak as they might appear. Long, slender muscles ripple inconspicuously beneath robust, weathered flesh, giving the elf strength to flourish under the dark sun. Unlike the elves of other campaign worlds, Athasian elves are not pale-skinned, delicate beings. Athasian elves' pigmentation is as varied as the flesh of other races and as affected by the rays of the sun. They grow no facial hair, but the locks atop their heads come in all colors – from sun-bleached blond to red to brown to darkest black. Finally, there are no subraces of Athasian elves. They are not divided into High or Grey or Drow. There are only elves, and the only allegiance they hold to is that afforded their own particular tribes.

Physical Pursuits

Elves are seen as lazy and deceitful, and in most ways they are. They strive to lead short, happy lives as opposed to long, sad ones. If work can wait for even another moment, then it will. For an elf, the future is a dark, deadly place, so he or she strives to make every now as enjoyable and full as possible. Still, elves do work. In some ways, they work harder than members of other races. Because they do not farm and the only herd animals they raise are kanks, elves must spend a lot of time and energy hunting and foraging in order to supplement their diets. While they detest hard labor and will never voluntarily set out to construct anything more durable than a tent or small hut, they will spend hours on end haggling and negotiating with potential customers. If captured and forced to toil as slaves, elves will seek the first opportunity to escape. Only a few of those who cannot escape survive in captivity. Elven spirits crave free, open spaces, and many elf slaves quickly succumb to the claustrophobic cells, the restricting chains, and the joyless labor.

In the wild, elves temper hard work with frenzied feasting and raucous revelry. For every hour spent working, two are spent celebrating the now. "What good is the work", an elf adage asks, "if you do not take the time to enjoy its fruits?" There are certain physical pursuits that elves do not consider tiring or boring. For example, an elf can practice with her long bow and long sword for days on end. She finds joy and fulfillment in honing her martial skills. Likewise, another elf spends every waking moment studying magic or thieving techniques if the rest of the tribe will let him. Try to get the same devotion out of a herder, and he'll just laugh as he seeks some diversion to fill one of his frequent breaks. This attitude makes other races think of elves as lazy. Elves apply considerable energy to activities others consider frivolous, while spending as little time as possible in "gainful" endeavors. Dwarves and humans toil the day away, but elves dance and laugh and run and sing. In fact, they have raised celebrating to an art form. There is nothing as beautiful or captivating as an elven dance, nothing as inspiring as the haunting music produced by elven instruments.

Between constant practice and naturally quick reflexes, elves are lightning fast in combat. Their swiftness makes them extremely dangerous enemies, and there are few things more brutal than the savage techniques devised by elf minds. They prefer long, slender weapons that can be whirled with speed and agility. Swords and polearms are particular favorites. Elven-made weapons are never cumbersome or bulky, for mobility in combat is preferred over strength of attack. "Strike three times before your enemy knows you are there", advises an elven ballad. The sentiment has become a part of every elf's combat philosophy. Elves will do whatever is necessary to keep themselves alive and prosperous – but no more. When the work is done, and not a moment later, the fun begins.

Stages of Life

Athasian elves do not live as long as the elves of other campaign settings. In fact, on average both half-giants and dwarves live longer than the desert runners. Death is a very real part of life on Athas, and only the strongest, craftiest and luckiest elves live to see old age, let alone to die a peaceful, natural death. They have no sense of sweeping periods of time, or of the broader range of values that go with such longevity, for elves naturally live only to around the age of 140 years. Unlike elves of other worlds, Athasian elves do not mysteriously disappear after a certain stage in their lives. There is no hidden elven homeland that calls to them, no otherworldly realm waiting to welcome them with eternal rewards. To the elves of Athas, there is only the now. They live in the moment, perhaps to an even greater degree than humans and halflings.

They do share a few traits with their non-Athasian counterparts. Aging is not as radical a transition to elves as it is to other races. There is little outward difference between an adult elf and an old elf. Only when they reach venerable age (100 years old and beyond) do elves begin to display obvious signs of wear. Even these signs are slight and mild when compared to a venerable human; in elves, their hair begins to dull and turn gray, their shoulders stoop slightly, and their reflexes start to slow. But they do not suffer the crippling diseases of old age, such as senility, that plague humans.

Like other races, elves go through a variety of stages of life. From childhood to adolescence, adulthood through middle age, and to old age and beyond, the elves of Athas dance and steal their way from birth to often violent death.

Childhood

Elf children develop at much the same rate as do human children, except that they begin to crawl and stand much earlier in their development. They learn to run when humans are learning to walk, and by the age of two they can run with the tribe when speed is not a necessity. Adult elves carry their children in back harnesses or on their shoulders when the tribe must make an overland run. Prior to learning to run, elf children do not have names as such. They are called by descriptive terms or nonsense names, such as Little One or Flop Ears. An elf child receives her first true name based upon the first interesting thing she does after learning to run. By the time an elf is four years old, he or she has grown to nearly 3 feet. Most of this height is in an elf's legs, which are long, lean and strong. Now the elf child can run alongside the adults and begin to learn the skills needed to perform as a member of the tribe.

As elves never completely lose their childish ways (it's a part of their makeup), elf children are encouraged to play. Much of their play has educational benefits, for elven amusements include races, games whose objective is to steal items from other tribe members, and mock combat with practice bows and swords. Through these activities the children learn the basics of warfare, desert survival, haggling, thievery, raiding, and many of the social customs of their tribes. Other types of play have no other purpose than to entertain and create joy. These include many elven dances and silly games of luck and nonsense. Childhood is not all fun and games, however. Elves, like the desert that spawns them, are hard parents. They provide no comfort to their young, no soft shoulders to cry upon. Elf children must learn that although they are part of a tribe, they are also on their own. They must learn to be brave and to stand on their own, no matter what anguish or heartache assails them. They must learn to be elves.

As young elves gain more strength and height, they begin to take on jobs to help the tribe. From around the age of 10, elf children are expected to assist with simple chores as a precursor to the apprenticeships to come.

Adolescence

Between the ages of 13 and 17; elves undergo radical changes as they mature. By the time adolescence ends, both male and female elves have reached their full height and have learned enough to take on adult roles and responsibilities in the tribal community. Adolescence is a time of structured learning, wherein adult elves instruct young ones in the business of the tribe. There are no roles specific to the sexes (with the exception of childbirth), and males and females learn the same things. For the first year or two, young elves learn as much as they can in as many subjects as possible. Besides formal training in wilderness lore and survival, archery, swordplay, and tribal customs, they also receive instruction in trade practices, hunting, tending herds, raiding, and other profitable ventures. When an elf reaches the age of 15 or so (or when a chief or other tribal leader feels the elf is ready), he or she is apprenticed to an adult. Whatever area the elf has shown particular talent in becomes the focus of this learning period. If, for example, an elf demonstrates a knack for magic, he or she becomes a pupil of the tribe's mage. Others are apprenticed to hunt masters, scouts, herders, trade leaders, war chiefs, clerics, or some other experienced adult – all for the purpose of learning specific skills and honing natural abilities.

Even this period of growth is not all work and study. Elves must also learn to enjoy and appreciate the now, and new entertainments are introduced to help accomplish this. Many of these entertainments involve interaction with the opposite sex, and more and more often adolescents are allowed to participate in adult dances and festivities. As elves approach their eighteenth year of life, they begin to prepare for the tribal ceremonies that will usher them into adulthood. Some may be granted the full rights and responsibilities of adulthood as early as their sixteenth year, while others must wait until the age of 20 or beyond to engage in the tests and initiations of the tribe.

Adulthood

Simply because an elf is born to a tribe doesn't mean he or she automatically gains full membership tights. While there are specific privileges afforded those of a particular tribe's blood, for an elf to reach adulthood he or she must pass the tribe's rites of initiation. Elves are considered ready to face these grueling tests when they reach their full height and have demonstrated not only bravery and mastery of a particular job, but when the tribe's leaders determine the time is right. Elf children receive names based on the first interesting thing they do when initially learning to run. These names may change when they reach adulthood, for often the rites of passage suggest new, more appropriate designations. Long-standing traditions determine what form a particular rite of passage will take, as well as the signs given to a tribe's element singers (clerics) during periods of reflection. While dangerous, few rites are deadly, and most adolescents ascend into adulthood with little trouble. However, young elves who suffer from maladies or extremely weak constitutions may not survive the tests placed before them.

Some may see this as cruel, but the lifestyle of the desert runners leaves no room for those who cannot hold their own. "Run, or be left behind", proclaims an elven adage. That is the truth and the reality of life on Athas. Adult elves are in the prime of their lives. They feel invincible and full of energy, ready to live every now to the fullest and face anything the wastes can throw in their way. They proudly take their place in the tribe. Never in their lives have elves been more free, and everything they do affirms the strength and independence of their spirits. While most elves remain with their tribes, a few decide to take up a life of wandering. Those who become adventurers by choice must fulfill the curiosity and longings that sing in their souls. Those who do so because of circumstance are often a sadder lot, for something has forcibly ripped them away from their tribes. They could have been captured as slaves, or cast from their tribes for some unspeakable transgression. Some are the lone survivors of a desert war, others the remaining members of tribes that fell to the deadly nature of Athas' untamed Wastes.

Elf adventurers who leave their tribes voluntarily or because they were forced to by non-tribal agents may stay away for years on end, but eventually the songs of elven blood call them home. When they return, their tribes typically welcome them with open arms and wild celebrations. Those who are cast out of their tribes or who have no tribe to return to feel a similar call, but they have no way to answer its summons. These elves must find a way to stay focused on the now or yearnings for dead yesterdays and impossible tomorrows may drive them mad. 

Middle Age

At the age of 50, Athasian elves enter middle age. Now they begin to slow, though few non-elves can perceive any change. Disease and injuries become more prevalent, but not to the extent that middle-aged humans must endure. These elves know their own capabilities, when to push forward and when to retreat. They have gained some wisdom, and they constantly seek new challenges and diversions to make the now more enticing. Athasian elves who survive to middle age typically choose to become the leaders of their tribe. They turn to teaching, seeking to pass on what they have learned to the next generation of elves. Some continue to adventure, especially those who have no other choice, but most return to their tribes in order to participate in the daily dance of survival.

Old Age

Around the age of 67 or so, an elf begins to show visible signs of age. This is the beginning of an elf's twilight years, when old age sets in and the end becomes a tangible possibility. Not the end that every elf faces every day – the possibility of violent death that marks each now under Athas's crimson sun – but an end that comes from weariness and fatigue, that creeps up like a thief in the night to steal away the now and all nows to come. Old elves must make a concentrated effort to run and stay in the lead, for to rest for even a moment is to invite the end to catch up and overtake the runner.

These elves do not look old to members of other races. Although they no longer appear as vital young runners, by no stretch of the imagination do they look like they are on their last legs. To other elves, however, looking upon elves who have reached old age is to look into the very depths of night. It saddens them to see the once-proud racers slow, to know that their limbs have lost vitality and speed, that their aim is no longer true and sure. But the younger elves also rejoice at the knowledge these elders have gained, for they seek their wisdom when faced with problems or indecision. 

Venerable Age

The dark years for an Athasian elf begin around his or her hundredth birthday. Age has finally begun to take a significant toll on the elf, and the years can now be seen in both body and bearing. Hair that was once shiny and full full of color has dulled and turned to gray. Wrinkles spread across weathered features, and pain starts to intrude upon limbs that once knew only vitality. Though a venerable elf is in much better physical condition than the average human of comparable age, he or she is far from the excellent form of youth. Sometime between the start of old age and the onset of venerable age, an elf finds that he can no longer keep up with his tribe. Many simply fall behind and die, losing the will to live. Some, however, refuse to lose the now without a fight. These ancient elves become hermits, living as best they can in the bleak wilderness. A few even find a place among other non-elf tribes, for the knowledge and skills they bring to a struggling settlement can mean the difference between survival and death. Of course, such non-elf communities must overcome their natural aversion and distrust of the desert runners to even contemplate such an arrangement.

If an elf can survive all the hazards of life on Athas into her venerable age, then she can expect death by natural causes to finally catch up with her sometime before her one hundred-fortieth birthday. When a venerable elf passes from the world in such fashion, it is said that all the tribes across the deserts mourn. At such a rare and poignant time, the songs of grief can be heard echoing across the dunes like the cries of the world itself, carried on the hot, boiling winds.

Elves and Half-Elves

The elves of Athas may have an instinctive distrust of outsiders, but they must still deal with them from time to time. As so often happens in the wilds and in the cities, sometimes the two find common ground. In the case of humans, whether through force or shared passions, children of mixed heritage are born into the world: the half-elves. Half-elves are generally taller than humans, but rarely grow as tall as their elf parents. Most stand between 6 and 6½ feet. However, half-elves are not as lean as desert runners, for they inherit some of the bulk of their human side. In most cases, it is easier for a half-elf to pass himself off as a human than as an elf, but elven features can be spotted if one looks closely enough Elves have no tolerance for mixed children. Humans are more accepting, but only in certain circumstances. They will work with half-elves, but few will call a half-elf friend. Elven tradition demands that children born from the union of elf and human be left for lirrs and other predators, and some tribes even drive out mothers of such children. A half-elf born in a city has a greater chance to survive, as humans do not have a comparable tradition. Still, life is not easy for half-elves. Elves distrust the halfelf's human side, and humans have no faith in the elf side.

Half-elves go through life as outsiders, developing self reliance in order to survive. They may go out of their way to find acceptance among their parents' people, but rarely does this acceptance come their way. Typically, they grow to adulthood as loners, seeking to hide their mixed heritage as best they can in order to avoid the discrimination that waits to batter them with angry words and distrustful glances.

Psychological Nature

What do I contemplate as I run beneath the crimson sun? What thoughts occupy my silent reverie? Do I ponder the now among the rolling dunes, listening to my heart pound a tune and my blood sing its sweet life song? Do I dwell on the adversity that chases behind me, for its jaws are wide and hungry, and its hot, foul breath scalds me with hardships and misfortune? Or do I consider death, awaiting me over the approaching crest and in the cracked canyon, behind the rise of rubble and around the next bend? With these choices, how can the other races ask such a question? How can a dwarf look behind and a human look forward when either direction is as endless and as bleak as the burning wastes? I think of the now and revel in its moment! I dance to the music of the elf run! I sing the joy of today that swirls in my head! What do I contemplate as I run beneath the crimson sun? I ponder the now, for anything else is too terrible to imagine!

- from Utaa Star Racer’s ‘Song of the Elusive Now’

World View

The minds of Athasian elves are complex and full of seemingly blatant contradictions. They love to laugh and play, yet they are as hard and unforgiving as the vast desert they run through. They are savage warriors, but not bloodthirsty killers. They easily switch mindsets like nobles in the city-states change wardrobes, operating as vicious raiders one moment and friendly traders the next. They appear lazy, lacking the motivations that drive other races. When necessary, however, they can become industrious workers, toiling with as much zeal as the hardiest dwarf until the work ends – then they put as much effort and even more energy into the wild celebration that follows. To outsiders, they are untrustworthy liars. To their tribe mates, they are loyal and true. How do elves justify this seemingly unbalanced behavior? In truth, they feel that no justification is necessary. They simply live according to their world view, which holds that only the moment is important – the moment, or what the elves call the "now." The now is time as it exists, the present, where every being resides. To waste time recalling the past or contemplating the future lets the now slip away. Lost nows are gone forever, and with them are lost that many brief chances for happiness in this world of unrelenting grief. 

To preserve these easily lost nows, elves live every moment in expressive joy. This outward celebration hides a deep sorrow, however, for every elf knows that tomorrow will be worse than today. Nothing can change that fact. All elves can do is keep moving, hoping to stay ahead of the misfortune and tragedy that follow on their heels like hungry thri-kreen.

To an elf, the goal of life is to live a short, happy existence. They have no desire to endure a long, cheerless one. An elf knows that death and hardship are his constant companions in his journey through the Athasian wastes, so he does everything he can to make the now more enjoyable. This outlook should not be mistaken for a suicidal nature, just a very short-ranged view of life. All elves want to live the now to the fullest; they don't want to imagine all the dreadful nows to come (and the inevitable death that waits in ambush among them). Unlike elves from other worlds, the desert runners have no patience. They are always in a rush, figuratively and literally racing to stay in the now. Emotional in the extreme, elves seem driven by the whims of the moment. This, they feel, is simply a reflection of the world they live in, where fate changes as quickly as the desert breeze. Elves are free spirits, content with living a nomadic existence. They derive a portion of their daily joy by relenting to the wanderlust that sings in their long limbs. Only when hunting and foraging fail to meet their needs do elf tribes put aside their wanderings and turn to trading and raiding for sustenance. They do not consider these activities to be good or evil. They are simply alternative ways of making the most of the ever-elusive now.

Intelligence and Wisdom

Elves have an inherent tendency to be highly intelligent. This intelligence manifests itself not as introspection and complex planning but as intuitive leaps of genius in the now. They can determine the best course of action from moment to moment, thinking on their feet with nearly flawless mental agility. They can formulate plans in an instant, reasoning their way through the most unexpected situations. This high level of intelligence makes elves very comfortable with magic, whether they are gathering spell components or practicing spellcraft themselves. High intelligence must be tempered with common sense, however, and this is a trait most elves are deficient in. Nature has not been generous with elves as far as wisdom is concerned. In practice, elven genius can seem undirected because of poor judgment or a lack of willpower. While elves understand and appreciate magic (at least more so than the general population), they have little understanding of the spheres clerics operate in. Thus, elf tribes often have significantly fewer clerics than mages.

Elves and Outsiders

On Athas there are endless ways to die. Besides the natural hardships of thirst, hunger and heat, there are the countless enemies that Coraanu Star Racer made when he ran across the sky. These enemies include halflings, humans, dwarves, half-giants, muls, thri-kreen, and the horde of lesser races and creatures struggling to survive the now. Even other elves are grouped among these enemies and potential enemies, for Athas makes desperate people turn to desperate means. To elves, all outsiders are potential enemies. Everyone they meet is presumed guilty of a future crime, and it falls upon the outsiders to prove their trustworthiness and friendship. Anyone not of a particular elf's tribe is an outsider – including other elves. The concept of racial unity means nothing to the elves of Athas. Severe desperation and common greed have shown them that anyone can turn on them, so they must remain vigilant and on guard whenever "outsiders" are around.

This view of outsiders helps form the elven code of ethics, which states that when dealing with outsiders, no code of ethics applies. Because they believe that outsiders are potential enemies waiting to take advantage of them (or worse), elves feel that it is in their own best interest to take advantage first. This includes lying, cheating, stealing, tricking, and swindling outsiders at every opportunity. This free-for-all attitude means that everything is fair game – property, people, and territory. The true dividing line in an elf's mind centers on his or her concept of equality. All members of a given tribe are equal. All outsiders are less than equal. If an elf cannot look upon someone as his equal, then he cannot treat that person with the same respect he affords the members of his tribe. To an elf's way of thinking, only the fastest, strongest and smartest can survive the hardships of the now. Those who do it best are the members of his tribe. Everyone else is less successful at surviving (sometimes despite evidence to the contrary), and it is the elf's obligation to take advantage of that inequality. Of course, if an outsider can prove he is the elf's equal, then the rights afforded other members of the tribe are extended to include the outsider. Until then, there are no limits imposed on the elf, either by conscience or concern. To an elf trader, there is no professional pride concerning quality of goods or guarantee of services. In fact, haggling a higher price than an item is worth provides enjoyment for the merchant and makes her feel successful. To an elf raider, all property falls into two categories – what's hers and what will soon be hers. Outsiders have no substantial claims to the items they possess. Even artificial boundaries mean nothing to an elf. Doors, locks, walls, and fences are only as sturdy as the warriors protecting them (which is why most elf tribes pay at least outward respect to the walls of the city-states). Only time and tests of trust can cause an elf tribe to accept an outsider. More often (though still rare as far as the number of occurrences go), individual elves will accept outsiders who have befriended them and earned their trust. 

Tribal Bonds

The rules of conduct (or lack thereof) that govern an elf's dealings with outsiders do not apply once you enter the tribal community. Within the tribe, elves must obey a strict code of honor. There are definite limits and guidelines, established by tribal law and tradition, concerning the liberties that can and cannot be taken with the rights of other tribe members. Two major factors contribute to the trust and loyalty that elves demonstrate to their tribe mates: the elven concept of equality and the need every desert dweller has for aid and companionship. Elves have no problem treating those they consider less than their equals with disdain and deceit. This view allows them to carry out their normal business practices without guilt or shame. By tradition, however, all full members of a tribe are equal. With this equality comes a special rule of elven conduct: treat those who are your equal as you yourself want to be treated. Remember, only members of an elf's tribe and a few select outsiders ever receive this level of equality. By definition, outsiders cannot be an elf's equal until they have not only proven their trustworthiness, but have also passed trials similar to the elven rites of passage – just like the elf's tribe mates.

Like all those who seek to survive in Athas' burning wilderness, elves need the help and companionship of those they can depend on. They must be able to place their lives in the hands of others and trust that those hands will not fail. No matter what peril springs up in an elf's path, as long as he is the member of a tribe he never has to face the peril alone. All tribe mates are brethren, defending each other from every danger that comes along. A tribe is a close-knit community, an extended family that takes care of its own. Even the most fiercely independent elf needs help from time to time, and his tribe mates are always nearby to provide it. This is not to say that every member of every tribe loves (or even likes) each other, but they all offer the same amount of respect and assistance they wish to receive in return. If there is one thing in all of Athas that an elf can count on, it is the support of his or her tribe. The bonds of tribal loyalty are like ancient steel, forged in the fires of adversity and linked by the chains of tradition. "Care for each other as you would have the world care for you," Coraanu Star Racer told the members of his tribe (according to accepted legends sung by ritual dancers). All elves know that Athas has no regard for those who inhabit its wastes, so they find comfort in the bosom of their tribes. 

Members of a tribe stand together against every hardship the now may hold. The elements, outsiders, even the land itself will rise against the tribe. That is the way of things on Athas, and it is no more and no less than an elf expects. But the elves face these challenges as one, stronger for every elven link in the tribal chain. "If you need me, my run brother, I will be there," the elves of the desert tribes sing. They add, "I am your shadow, your strong right arm. Know joy since we are one! Find comfort in our union!" These are more than words to the elves. These are truths that survive the sun and wind and shifting sand. Few acts can break the bonds that hold tribes together. If an elf does transgress against a tribe mate, there are literally dozens of ways to mend feelings and egos. From contests of strength and skill to gifts of apology, most social blunders can be repaired in the context of tribal life. There are transgressions, however, that require a greater price be paid. Spilled blood must be compensated with spilled blood, and death (brought on by accident or intent) must be answered with death. The foulest crimes usually lead to the guilty party being cast from the tribe, as elves abhor killing tribe mates. Once outcast, the abhorrence quickly fades away for the elf is no longer a member of the tribe. A death sentence can then be carried out if the tribe so chooses.

Independent Spirit

The elves of Athas possess a great love of personal freedom and a driving need to remain independent and self-sufficient. While few elves would willingly trade away their tribal bonds, all experience a need to be alone regularly to prove their individual worth. It is not uncommon for an elf to disappear for weeks or even years at a time when the wanderlust grips her. Besides seeking new joys in every now, she will seek new challenges to test her mettle. Such tests may even include joining up with adventurers for a time to face the dangers of the burning world. At no time is an elf more independent and the need for self-reliance so great as when an elf travels among non-elves. Elven ritual dancers and element singers believe that this fierce independence comes from the elves' communion with the wilderness. There are no walls in the desert that can long stand against the driving winds and smothering sands. The wind goes where it wants to go, and it has taught the elves to do the same. The wind is like the tribe, the sand like individual elves. Usually the wind carries the group in the same direction, but sometimes individual grains will drift away to follow a different breeze. Eventually, if they are able, the grains will return, but until then they are on their own.

An elf needs wide open spaces. She must be able to run across the horizon, to feel the sun on her skin and the wind in her hair. She needs to see the sky and touch the ground. For this reason, most elves do not last when forced into slavery. The wastes have made the elves a claustrophobic people. They dislike walls and hate the feel of bindings, which inhibits their ability to run. If an elf is captured, he will spend his initial days in captivity seeking a way to escape. The need to run free burns in his heart, keeping him focused on the now and ever alert for some opening to exploit. Once an elf gives in to despair and loses his hope of freedom, he succumbs to the rigors of slave life and dies. Do not think that this love of freedom extends to outsiders, however. Elves are only concerned with their own freedom and the freedom of their tribe mates. They will not go out of their way to set other slaves free. Unless there is some hope of personal gain involved, an elf will simply leave an outsider to find his own way out. After all, if the elf could escape, then anyone who is his equal should be able to escape, too. 

Elves and Love

Their independent spirits allow elves to love freely. Elven love comes with no obligations or promises beyond the now. This does not make elven love less intense or less real than the love exhibited by other races. On the contrary, like other elven emotions, love is unrestrained and overflowing. Elves do nothing halfway. When they commit to love, they commit fully and completely, with every fiber of their wild souls. However, because they refuse to think or plan beyond the now, their love can be over in an instant. It lasts for as many nows as it lasts, then it ends with no regrets or compromises. Elves readily fall in love with members of their own tribe, elves from other tribes, and even with humans – it all depends on whether the spark fly. (Rumors of elf and halfling dalliances have yet to be confirmed.) When the sparks do fly, the love that follows burns like the sun itself, with heat and passion. But elves cannot stand to be tied down with obligations any more than they can endure being bound with ropes and chains. Elven love does not come with any guarantees or promises other than those of the moment. For the now, an elf loves fully and without restraint. Who knows what the next now will bring? Certainly not the elf, who cannot contemplate the future the same way members of other races can.

Madness and Elves

Two types of madness often strike at elves, shattering their fine minds and breaking their soaring spirits. The first type of madness appears in most elves at one time or another. This is the madness brought on by confinement, crowds, or enclosed spaces due to an elf's natural claustrophobia. This madness is rarely disabling. Instead, it causes depression, mild panic attacks, or even moderate physical discomfort. In rare cases, it can cause elves to be gripped by such an intense panic as to become nonfunctional or to even lash out with wild, frenzied attacks.

The other type of madness usually strikes elves who have lost their tribe through disaster or who have been cast out. If these elves ever lose the ability to focus on the now, longings for the past or for futures that will never be can drive them into a state of depression and insanity. This form of madness often takes a destructive course, leading the elves it inflicts toward a quick, violent end.

Elven Honor

To outsiders, it appears as if elves have no concept of honor. On the contrary, elven honor is as virtuous as human honor – it just doesn't apply to anyone who is not of an elf's tribe. To those who are considered an elf's equal, an elf must behave according to a strict code of honor. This code incorporates honesty, integrity, trustworthiness, and virtue (as the terms are understood in the context of an elf tribe). Those who are an elf's equal are afforded rights and given the same considerations the elf wishes to receive. Property, for example, belongs to whoever possesses it, and it is dishonorable for an elf to take liberties with the property of a tribe mate. Elven honor never extends to outsiders. Those who are not members of an elf's tribe are expected to behave just as an elf would behave when meeting an outsider – they are expected to look out for themselves. However, when an elf finally accepts an outsider as an equal, the paths to friendship open wide. These friendships often flourish when an elf joins a group of adventurers (by choice or circumstance) and the party passes whatever tests of trust and friendship the elf devises. Once an elf accepts an outsider, he or she treats that person with all the honor afforded tribe mates and other equals. Only acts of severe dishonor and untrustworthiness can break these bonds of friendship.

Mental Pursuits

Elves enjoy thinking that involves their current situation. They don't like to dwell on the past, except for an occasional legend that takes the form of a song and dance. They also do not enjoy contemplating the future, for all they see are the tragedies to come. But they can spend countless nows thinking about the moment. In many ways, elves find more enjoyment in mental activities than they do in physical ones.

Learning for learning's sake occupies much of an elf's free time. On average, a greater percentage of the elf population can read and write than the populations of other races. Not only do they study their own written language, but they make a habit of becoming proficient in the common language, partially because it is useful when a tribe engages in trading activities. Mental challenges make up the majority of elven pastimes. Puzzles, word and logic problems, and even mathematical riddles fill the time on elf runs or when the tribe is camped. Elves who create challenging problems receive as much or even more admiration as those who are quick with solutions. Some of these problems become so complicated as to take years to figure out, and a few even become part of a tribe's tests of passage.

Elves and Magic

Elven intelligence makes the desert runners' association with magic almost inevitable. On average, they are the one race most comfortable with the arcane arts and their accouterments. They have no problem gathering and selling spell components, and they see no inherent evil in either preservers or defilers. Since they believe that pain and death are the obvious results of life, then a defiler is only a single catalyst for the unavoidable outcome. Both approaches to magic can make the now more bearable, so both find a place among the elves. Individual tribes may have restrictions concerning one type of mage or the other, but in general both are accepted and even welcomed among elven ranks. As a personal matter, preservers and defilers do not like each other, so though elves may not have any bias concerning the two, they will rarely be found operating in the same tribe. Whereas other types of tribes may either openly hate or barely tolerate the presence of a magic user, elven tribes accept them the same way they accept a good fighter or a skillful rogue. Mages receive no special considerations within a tribe, but they also receive no undue restrictions and are not objects of fear and suspicion.

Because of their ready acceptance of magic, elves have no problems combining arcane mental activities with more physical training. It is not uncommon, therefore, to meet an elf who displays skills as a fighter, thief, cleric, or psionicist along with his or her magical abilities.

Elves and Clerics

Priestly magic, on the other hand, is as mysterious to elves as wizardly magic is to the other races. Most tribes offer positions of power and respect to clerics (whom they call "element singers"), though they hold those who commune with the elements in awe and feel at least some fear toward them. Because of this, tribes will rarely have more than one full element singer among their number, and never more than two. Each tribe's particular traditions often dictate the type of singers they seek, and if none of that type are born to the tribe they will try to steal one (literally) from another tribe. Those clerics born to a tribe who worship an element other than what the tribe is dedicated to are directed to become multi-skilled practitioners. These clerics combine priestly talents with warrior, mage, psionicist, and thief skills to better serve their tribes. They are never afforded the title of element singer.

Elves and Psionics

Because psionics are so vital to life on Athas, the elves have embraced this field of study with the same enthusiasm they show the martial and thieving arts. While elven attitudes preclude them from developing anything as formal as the schools devoted to the Way of the Mind, elder psionicists among the tribes teach young talents how to harness their developing abilities. Even wild talents are encouraged to practice their skills in order to best use them for the benefit of the tribe. Every so often, a talented elf psionicist will leave his or her tribe to search for a more qualified teacher. Those who voluntarily reject their tribal affiliation take up plain brown wrappings to signify this decision, showing all they meet that they are elves without a tribe. It is rumored that some of these "brown elves" even find a place among the legendary Order.